


Wasser

by Hageny



Category: Bedannibal - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 08:27:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7353418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hageny/pseuds/Hageny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack Crawford brings Bedelia in for questioning after capturing her and Hannibal Lecter. Bedelia makes sure to regrets it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wasser

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this work is the German word for water. Also, in this work Jack discusses only the time Bedelia and Hannibal spent in Italy; I know they lived around 8 months abroad in total, but they are referencing just the time in Florence.

The bulb flickered above her head as he walked in the room. Bzzt, bzzt, the electricity suffocating itself; each time it lit again, she seemed to glow, a cold pale yellow wash on her translucent skin. Bzzt. Bzzt.  
“Good evening…Bedelia.” The words died in Jack Crawford’s throat. He thought of the last time he’d seen her, so calm and placid. So trustworthy. Or maybe he wanted her to seem that way, and he’d confused himself.  
Her pale blue eyes glistening softly in response. “Detective Crawford.” She fixes her face, lets a slow smile overspread her delicate features. So warm and inviting.  
So trustworthy. Bedelia smirks within.  
She hears the sounds of the ocean in her ear, and a childhood memory follows close behind. She remembers a moment spent on the beach, the agonizing screams of a young boy breaking the stillness, shattering the safety in the air. Or the illusion of it. Seeing the dorsal fin that broke the waves, so close to the shore. Blood pouring on the beach, people screaming, frantically trying to save the young life. He didn’t make it.  
And maybe that’s how they get them. They draw as close to the normalcy of the shore, and watch the darkness of the water draw people in, listen for the movements that signal someone is unaware.  
She learned then it’s not about the kill itself, but simply the time you wait. The patience in the moment.  
She sees Jack’s stony expression across the table from her. A clock begins to tick.  
“I think you know why you’re here” he says quietly.  
She gently quivers a brow, pressing her lips together. “You believe I was Dr. Lecter’s cohort.” Her voice comes out dry for effect.  
“You lived as man and wife and two people ended up dead during your…expedition in Italy.” He pauses, eyeing her coldly. “Those are the facts. Nothing about what I believe.”  
“It was my public appearances that helped you catch him. I knew the same purchase every week for four months would arouse suspicion.” She tilts her head and smiles warmly. It almost sounds sincere.  
“A thoughtful gesture, shopping for Dr. Lecter. I’m guessing he put the ingredients to good use?”  
She blinks slowly. “I wouldn’t know.”  
Jack sets his jaw and looks at the table for a moment before looking back at her. It was an uneasy moment, feeling those placid eyes that looked like oceans. Never leaving his face.  
“I trusted your advice before you left, with regard to Will and Hannibal.” Jack feels his professionalism dip when he utters the sentence but doesn’t care.  
He doesn’t know she does too. Closer, closer in the water.  
“And have you found any evidence to prove I cannot be trusted?” she queries. She lets a thin veil of solemnity wash over her face.  
Jack straightens. “I know you maintained a residence together for three months, you posed as husband and wife, and as far as we’re concerned you might’ve continued your roles had Hannibal’s past not caught up with both of you.”  
Bedelia rolls her eyes inwardly. Hannibal’s penchant for the extravagant had created the trail the FBI followed to Italy, had led her to the grocery store each week for vibrant spices and aged spirits. She always looked at the camera in the subway to make it seem sincere. To make it fit where she knew they hoped it would: a resourceful victim biding her time.  
Truthfully, she simply didn’t have the resources to talk Hannibal out of his tastes, out of blood and dinners. She thought of Robert Louis Stevenson: 'I let my brother go to the devil in his own way.'  
She heard her voice. “Sometimes all we can do is watch.” She’d learned to shake off her regret and sadness; she indulged all her senses in that time.  
“Only time will tell, if I cannot. You of all people know how…powerful Hannibal can be” she said softly.  
Jack tensed at the reference to his old wounds. “I don’t doubt you’re equally capable” he said, a cold smile overtaking his features, bleeding into his eyes. Emotion coming to a peak.  
Bedelia saw water rising, saw Crawford’s final slip into the surf.  
Jack had already risen. His back to her as he turned to leave.  
“Please accept my condolences for the loss of your wife.”  
He froze. He turned slowly to Bedelia. Bzzt, bzzt. The light flickered above her head.  
He opened his lips to reply but nothing emerged. Only air and shock.  
“Bella, wasn’t it?” She tilts her head. “Such a beautiful name. Hannibal informed me that you suffered the loss quite deeply.”  
Another moment of silence. Jack struggled to breathe, caught merely bits of air. Hnnn, hnnn, as air tried to reach his lungs.  
“People…have a way of misconstruing loss. They think the pain subsides over time. It’s difficult to heal; we part with mementos of that time, thinking it will make things easier.”  
Jack’s lungs finally take pity and allow him enough air to speak. “What are you doing?”  
Now Bedelia smiles, that placid mouth twisting into ice. “Their misunderstanding only makes things more difficult. Of course, they don’t perceive their well-intended gestures as hurtful. They see things from their eyes alone. It skews the view.”  
She pauses and watches Jack’s mouth quiver. She hears the ocean, roaring in her ears.  
“We have so much in common, Agent Crawford. We could indulge in our similarities sometime. Perhaps we’ll become close in our grief.” She sets her jaw, tongue flickering between her teeth. Bzzt, bzzt.  
“Now that you know what it’s like to lose something” she says softly.  
The light above her head pops, and the room plunges into darkness.


End file.
